I just took a walk around the block, the first in a while. I’m recovering from hip surgery this week, which hopefully fixed a longstanding issue that I’ve had that has prevented me from doing some of the things I love to do, mainly running. Two weeks ago, my husband had back surgery to fix a herniated disk, and two weeks before that I had surgery to remove a benign cyst. We’ve had a bit of, well, something, going on here and thankfully everything has gone well. We are and will be well.
I felt awesomely, ridiculously high after my first surgery, grateful that the medical team had removed something unwanted and unneeded in my body. My husband felt tremendous pain relief after his surgery, and I felt relief for him. And, yesterday it all hit me and I went to a dark place. I woke up this morning still in that place.
One of things I do for my family is that I shop and cook. We are lucky to have friends and family who cooked for us this week, and my husband was going to go shopping last night but, after a full day of doing all of my jobs as well as his, he conked out last night.
So, this morning I do something I never do, which is that I order groceries from Instacart. And then I go for my first walk around the block, trying to rid myself of some of the demons that have made camp in my heart over the last couple of days.
As I’m walking, I get a text from Instacart: Kennedy just started shopping!
And then another: Kennedy replaced Cuties Clementine Bag
And then: Kennedy replaced Pirate’s Booty Aged White Cheddar Baked Rice and Corn Puffs
The texts keep coming.
And, every time I receive one, my spirits are lifted. I stop and smile. I think, I f*&%ing love you, Kennedy. And I do!! My heart fills with overflowing love for Kennedy who is out there shopping for my family and me, making decisions about what substitutions we would like, buying us nourishing food, so that I can be home healing.
And, as I begin to let in that feeling of love, I start to notice little things around me, like these lanterns that one of my neighbors has placed on her beautiful blossoming trees. I smile. I want to add those to my trees, I think. I am breathing again. I am feeling more in my body and less in my head. I’m starting to connect again with beauty, and hope, and goodness, and possibility. I’m back into a space of some flow.
And I think about a project that I am pursuing, a project that is and has been falling apart every step of the way, and I know in my bones I am not giving up on this, which isn’t always the case. Standing there up the block, resting mostly on my good leg, taking in the newness of the tulips and the blooming trees, I recommit yet again, for what feels like the hundredth, or maybe thousandth, time. Maybe this project will look different than I had imagined, maybe I will have to shift it around, but it is happening. And I stop and smile and put one hand over my heart and, with my other hand, I hold my own back. I am flooded with tender love for myself appreciating of my will to live, to contribute, to grow, to take risks, and to use the short time I have on this Earth to do something.
I wonder, is there some, Oh, now I see how that all worked out for the best! moment awaiting me? Or maybe, Had I not gone through that I wouldn’t have learned this type of deal? Or perhaps an I’m glad it worked out that way. It was so much better understanding yet to come?
And I think of my favorite line in the Kris Delmhorst song, Bees: And I look up at the sky and say, What am I doing with my one little chance to be alive?
What are you doing with your one little chance to be alive?